Perception of Angels
by Xezo
Summary: When the awakening comes, all plans shall shatter, and all perceptions change, as Albus Dumbledore's true nature is brought to light and the real fight will begin. Longer summary inside  300 words. HP/DM  most likley .
1. Summary

A/N: Hey, this is just a summary, first chapter will be up soon. The only thing I own is the plot and a couple of minor characters later on.

Perception of Angels

Draco Malfoy returns to school for his sixth year shaken by an event that occurred at home shortly before the first day back. This event, in which his participation is dubious, but incriminating, changes his perspective of his family, the war, and himself in an earth-shattering way. All at once he is forced to deal with a suspicious headmaster, a godfather that wants him imprisoned, and former enemy showing a remarkable, and nearly unknown magical power. Magical forces, that few are aware of, are pushing Draco towards a self-discovery that could change the war, the future of an entire magical species, and the soul of one scared and lonely boy.

Harry Potter holds a dark secret inside him. The events at the Ministry at the end of his fifth year did not occur as he led everyone to believe, the prophecy was destroyed, not only physically, but entirely. Harry broke his own fate, and with it a chain of crimes against nature and magic. But another thing happened to Harry that night, he acted against his conscience, doing something he could not accept. His own actions that night push him further and further from the light, until he cannot bear the world in which he belongs. But even as he sinks away from himself, he feels drawn to Draco, as if the boy could help him, as if he was meant to help him. As steadily more confusing events unfold in his sixth year, a rift between Harry and Dumbledore begins to grow, as something within Harry shrinks from his presence.

When the awakening comes, all plans shall shatter, and all perceptions change, as Albus Dumbledore's true nature is brought to light and the real fight will begin.

* * *

><p>I had this up already but then realised the prologue gave away more than I wanted it to, so I replaced it with a summary instead, mainly because the first chapter is just so long, you should know what it's about first. And I suppose the summary gives some things away, but at least you'll know if you want to read more =]<p>

Feedback is obviously not necessary yet, next chapter will be up in a few hours, then feel free to comment =]


	2. Part 1

Part One

Draco returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year with a heavy heart. His mind was on the past, not the present or the future. The time away from Hogwarts had been hell for Draco. Arriving at Platform 9¾ he had promptly secluded himself in a compartment near the back of the train and cast a spell to make anyone approaching turn around and forget there was even a compartment there. He didn't want to see anyone, not even people he used to consider his friends. Guilt hung heavily around his neck, like a noose mere seconds away from choking the life out of him. Shattered illusions were glass in his lungs, reminding him of their presence with every breath. Never had Draco felt this way, so utterly disillusioned.

If he had not been so desperate to escape his home, he would have done anything to prevent his return to Hogwarts. How could he face the other students? Forget the students, how could he face Professor Dumbledore, who would know instantly what had happened? He could not return to the dungeons and put on his Slytherin Prince face and act like nothing had changed. So much had changed, he had changed; his outlook on life had changed. He could feel it all bubbling in his chest, rising to his throat at the worst times, he was barely able to control it.

Draco closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He would have to talk to someone, he knew that. There was no possible way he could last a whole year without losing his sanity. He felt the mad urge to laugh when he realised he felt the desire to seek out Potter and talk to him. If anyone could understand what he was going through, it would be Harry Potter, a boy so knowing of the harshness and unfairness of the world that something like this would not shock him. But Potter would curse him on sight after what Draco's father had been a part of during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and especially what Lucius had done in the Department of Mysteries, and then there was what Draco himself had done over the years. No, Potter would not help him, he was alone in this.

Draco had always liked to believe he was strong, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not force the tears away. They pointedly trekked their way down his face, ever so slowly, as if mocking him for his weakness. Draco, confident of his spell to keep people away, pulled up his legs and hugged his knees. He could afford to give into his emotions once before arriving at school, in fact it was probably for the best. All that mattered was not getting caught. His spell was powerful enough to go undetected by students, but there was always the possibility of a teacher being on the train. Draco was hoping Potter would be too distracted by his own grief to notice, because there was no doubting that he would be able to sense Draco's spell and break through it.

Draco buried his face in his knees, shoulders shaking with his sobs. He felt so lost. His place in the world had always been assured. Not only had he known exactly where he was going, but there was never a chance he would not succeed. He could never have guessed things would change, or that he would be the driving force behind that change. For the first time in his life, Draco did not want to go home. He did not want to hear from his parents, or ever see them again. But he had isolated himself from everyone around him during every school year so far. His only friends were closely linked to his family, he couldn't go to them. Draco was alone, lost and alone. And all he could do was cry and wonder what to do next. He'd never felt so young.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Somewhere very close to Hogwarts Draco felt someone passing his spell. He had just _known_ it was Potter. The second he felt that familiar magical signature he had tensed, head still buried in his knees, still hunched into himself. He managed to stop his body from shaking as he felt Potter stand at the compartment door, looking in on him. Draco was waiting for a confrontation. He didn't want anyone to see him like that, and take advantage of it, regardless of the fact he'd done it to so many others. Although after all Draco had done to Harry, he knew he deserved whatever Potter gave him. The fact he realised this was just proof he had fallen very far from who he had been.

So he sat tense, just waiting for Potter to enter the compartment and start a fight with him, but it never happened. Potter stood there staring at him until the train stopped an hour or so later. Even then he took his time leaving, long enough that he must have known Draco sensed him there, for Draco did not move at all until Potter was far away. He was so surprised by Potter's lack of reaction that he didn't know what to do.

What he wanted more than anything was to believe that Potter recognised extreme grief and disillusionment and left him alone out of understanding, or mercy. Although he also wanted desperately for Potter to seek him out, just so he could talk to someone. While he had hated Potter until just recently, he couldn't ignore the fact that Potter had had more than his share of guilt, grief, and disillusionment. Maybe that was why he no longer hated the boy hero, because he understood a small part of what Harry must go through every day. Still, there was the chance that Potter didn't do anything so he could keep this knowledge for later taunting.

Draco took a while to dry his tears and gather his strength. He barely made it to the carriages before they left. He must have stood staring at the monstrous creatures pulling them for a long time because when he came to his senses there was only one carriage left. It took him a few seconds to make the connection. He had been quite put out the previous year when he had not been able to see Thestrals, now he wasn't so sure. Still looking at the monsters, he climbed into the only remaining carriage and flinched when he realised who was in it.

Potter, Granger, and Weasely broke of their conversation abruptly when he climbed in and shut the door behind him.

"Only carriage left," he muttered.

Wanting to avoid conflict, Draco sat as far away from them as possible in the small carriage and looked pointedly out the dark window. He did not want to start a fight or be drawn into one, but realistically it would only take a few moments for Weasley to say something. Draco wasn't quite sure about Potter, or whether he had told his friends about seeing Draco sitting alone and crying in the train. Sudden fear washed over him at the thought.

"What, not clambering to see your cronies, Malfoy?" Ron spat.

Draco didn't even turn his head. It was a pretty poor insult as far as Weasley was concerned. Perhaps he was put off by Draco's silence. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Granger fighting with herself. She was a prefect again so she was probably dying to ask him where he had been on the train. She would have inspected every compartment as was her duty. No other prefect checked _every_ compartment, but he knew she would have.

"I asked you a fucking question, Malfoy," Weasley snapped.

"I missed the other carriages, Weasley," Draco replied, still looking out the window. "I wouldn't choose this one if I had a choice."

Draco wasn't even really paying attention to what Weasley was saying, his mind was still fixed on the thestrals. How could he have ever wished to see such monsters? After seeing them, he no longer wondered why you had to see death before seeing them. There was something horrifying about their eyes...

"They're very disconcerting the first time you see them, aren't they?" Potter asked quietly.

Draco snapped his head around. He stared at Potter, fighting the urge to just leave the carriage and walk. He searched Potter's face. He wasn't sure if Potter was talking about Thestrals or death. What he had said could mean either, since Thestrals could only be seen by seeing someone die. There was a mixture of unusual softness, but also suspicion, in Potter's face. No doubt Potter would have believed he'd been killing for Voldemort if he had not seen Draco on the train. Now he was clearly not sure how to deal with Draco.

"You saw the Thestrals?" Granger suddenly asked, suspicion dawning on her face.

Draco grew panicked. He backed as far as he could into his seat while trying hard not to look too bothered. It took a second for Weasley to click and when he did he drew his wand on Draco.

"Been killing for Voldemort have you?" he hissed. "Always knew you were a filthy Death Eater."

Draco glanced at Weasley's wand and then his face, which was a show of grim determination. He looked towards Potter to see he was forcing himself not to act, he probably wanted to see what Draco was going to do. Granger looked worried about the entire situation. Draco carefully slipped a hand into his pocket, very nervous about the situation.

"Get your wand out of my face, Weasley," Draco said quietly. He gripped his wand in his hand, ready for anything.

"Or what, Malfoy? You'll kill me too?"

"Leave him alone, Ron," Harry suddenly interrupted, eyes fixed on Draco.

"Are you insane, Harry? We have proof he's a murderer!" Ron said incredulously.

"All we have proof of is that he's seen someone die. If he was working for Voldemort, he would have killed me on the train," Harry said quietly.

Draco swallowed his shock and refused to let it show. He hadn't even thought of that. No one could go near his compartment but Harry, he could have dragged him in and killed him. No one would have known. Some of his alarm must have shown on his face before Granger dragged Weasley's arm down, giving Draco as calculating look.

"You saw him on the train, Harry?" Granger asked.

Potter didn't even reply, he was still staring intensely at Draco, as if trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle. Draco stared back just so he would be able to see if Potter came to any conclusions. Potter had always been ridiculously easy to read. It frustrated Draco that he was now the same.

"I heard that your father escaped Azkaban last week," Potter commented conversationally.

"Yes, I heard that too," Draco commented as idly as he could. "Shoddy security out there, isn't it?"

"Oh, please," Weasley snorted. "You're not fooling anyone, Malfoy. Did you have a fun week, training with dear daddy, torturing the innocent? Or was he teaching you how to kill all week?"

"Ron!" Potter suddenly shouted in alarm.

Weasley looked at Potter, completely astonished at his defending Draco. That changed when Potter sent him a dark look and Weasley suddenly look horrified.

"God, Harry, I'm sorry! I didn't mea-"

"Just shut up, Ronald," Granger suddenly said, "Before you say something even worse."

Draco watched this exchange with interest. Had Potter been learning how to kill all holiday? It made sense, considering Voldemort was after him and there were so many attacks on him. It suddenly struck Draco; if Potter had known how to kill, and was mentally prepared for it, earlier he would have killed Draco's father at the Ministry.

That thought struck him rather hard. As much as he hated his family now, was he angry Potter hadn't been trained sooner? If Draco deviated from his family's plan did that mean he automatically sided with the Light? Did a disagreement with his family even mean he was no longer on their side? Where the hell did he stand now?

He must have had some lost and confused look on his face because he felt them all watching him. He tried to put his Malfoy mask back on but couldn't. His confusion ran too deep into his core.

"Malfoy..."

"Please, Potter, just leave me alone," Draco begged, cutting Potter off as he realised there was no other way to be left alone.

All three looked completely shocked to hear him beg. Luckily the carriage stopped and before they could dredge up some kind of response he was out of the carriage and entering the castle. In his hurry he didn't watch where he was going and collided with someone. He fully intended to just keep going without apologising but a hand on his arm stopped him.

He looked up at Professor Dumbledore in nothing short of fear. Potter and his cronies entered at that moment and stopped. Draco ignored them and tried to think of a way to get away from Dumbledore without raising suspicion. Unfortunately Snape was hovering nearby, just waiting to ambush him. He'd received several letters from Snape during the last week of the holidays, every single one of them had gone unanswered. Even if he got away from Dumbledore, he'd walk straight into Snape's grip.

"Draco, I was wondering if you'd like to join me in my office later for a cup of tea?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

Draco couldn't wrench his eyes from the old man's face, nor could he hide his fear. "No thank you, Professor. I'd rather retire early."

Confusion and concern clouded Dumbledore's face for a few seconds before he tried again, obviously deciding that subtlety wasn't the way to go.

"I really think that we should discuss your summer, Mr. Malfoy."

"If you know what happened then there is nothing to discuss," Draco snapped, putting on his aristocratic airs, alarmed at how difficult it was now. "Now, I would like you to _unhand me_, Professor."

Dumbledore let Draco go as if he'd been burned, something akin to shock on his face. Draco supposed no student had ever looked at him in fear and refused to meet with him. Draco didn't look back as he entered the Great Hall for the feast. He was right, Dumbledore knew.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Dumbledore stared after Draco with great concern on his face. He turned and motioned Severus over to him just as the potions teacher moved to follow the boy.

"Severus, I need to know what happened in that house last week. Give Draco the password to one of the guest rooms and tell him he can use it whenever he wants, or permanently. And be careful, we can't afford to push him away until we know what happened."

"We found the body, Albus. We know what happened," Severus snapped. "His magic was all over her!"

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus. Relay my message but do nothing else. We will never find out what happened in that house if he runs."

Severus nodded and swept into the Hall. The billowing of his robes and the scowl on his face was sure to cause the fainting of at least one first year, as always. Dumbledore turned and caught sight of Harry and his friends. Worry clouded his face. He gestured them over quickly.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione," he greeted quickly. "It is best if you forget that conversation."

Ron looked incredulous but Harry slapped a hand over his mouth before he could talk. Dumbledore gave him a grateful look, even though he didn't quite understand why Harry was helping. Hermione chewed her lip for a moment. Dumbledore could see the battle on her face, wanting to obey him but unable to ignore the matter.

"He could see the Thestrals, Professor," she said quietly. "I think we have a right to know what's going on."

Dumbledore felt conflicted. They had heard too much but he couldn't let them get themselves involved, the situation was delicate enough already. If Draco felt threatened then he may run, right into the arms of Voldemort, who, to Draco, represented stability at the moment. Voldemort was a master at manipulating teenagers who weren't sure which side they were on. Although, Draco had always been on his family's side, Dumbledore couldn't forget that, nor could he assume one night changed all that, especially when he wasn't fully sure what had happened.

"Even so, Hermione, the situation is being dealt with. We do not believe Draco is a threat, but do try to stay away from him."

Hermione looked ready to argue but Harry gave her a look that silenced her. Dumbledore felt profoundly grateful to Harry for that. He knew after hearing what he and Severus had said, Hermione would not give up until she knew what was going on, unless Dumbledore said some strong words against her. Dumbledore severely disliked being harsh with his students, but he would do it if he had to.

"I saw him on the train, Professor. I think I know what happened, and how it happened," he said softly. "I want to talk to you about it."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "Alright, please join me in my office after dinner, Harry. You may be just what we need."

Harry nodded and dragged his friends into the hall with him. Dumbledore watched them go, a rare glimpse of fear on his face as he watched Harry disappear from sight. He could not deny the importance of finding out exactly what happened in Malfoy manor, but the more instinctual part of his mind was screaming at him for agreeing to meet with Harry alone about this.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Draco stared at the piece of paper he had found attached to his school trunk. It contained instructions to use a guest room whenever he wanted. A guest room far away from the dungeons. While he could not deny that being separated from the other Slytherins was exactly what he wanted, he hated that Dumbledore had assumed so much. At the same time he was worried, if Dumbledore could assume that correctly, why was Draco even allowed back to school? Still, he soon found his way to the guest room and set himself up there. He wasn't so proud that he would reject such solitude at such a confusing time for him.

Being around the other Slytherins would do nothing to help him decide where he stood in the war. Besides, they were all so closely tied to his family, they would already know what had happened, and want to talk about it. Reminders of what had happened were dangerous for him, he was sane enough to realise this. If he was thrown back to that night he may say something stupid, or dangerous.

He buried his hands in his hair, barely refraining from yanking out strands, as he realised he'd already said something stupid due to memories disturbing him. Had he really begged Potter to leave him alone? The Golden Trio would never let him live that down, which would only remind him further of what had happened. And Harry, Harry would not forget the look on Draco's face when he said it, and wouldn't stop until he knew exactly why Draco looked that way.

It should have surprised him that his family could ruin his entire life in just one night, but somehow it didn't. Maybe he had been waiting for this, all these years, subconsciously knowing his reaction, whilst really being aware of nothing but his blinding faith in his father. No, the only thing that had surprised him about that night was his mother. That his mother could so easily destroy her son...

Draco stood and paced restlessly. Perhaps he should have taken Dumbledore up on his offer. If he explained that night in the right way, he may gain protection out of it. But did he really want to be on the side of the Light? Draco slammed his fist into the wall. He was being foolish, he would not escape conviction without lying his ass off, and Dumbledore would easily see through his lies. All they needed was his wand, he knew what it would tell them, he knew his magic would be on her body still. Even lies would not work at this stage. But they didn't understand!

Sighing, he looked out his window into the darkness surrounding Hogwarts. He had to figure out his loyalties on his own, and then act accordingly. He was not completely irrational. He knew that either direction he went in would end in death. The only difference was that one would be faster than the other. Was he weak enough to take the easy way out?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Draco skipped breakfast the next day. He rose at dawn and spent the time before his first class outside by the lake. His timetable had been slipped under his door in the night. Again, the presumption frustrated him, but he could do nothing about it, skipping breakfast was exactly what he had wanted. He guessed that it was Snape, rather than Dumbledore, that was responsible. Either way, he was expected to attend the first class, not able to use the excuse of not receiving his timetable.

The first class was Care of Magical Creatures, so at least it was outside. The stone walls of the castle were slowly suffocating him. Being constantly surrounded by stone was making him feel imprisoned, like he couldn't leave if he wanted to. He briefly wondered if he could. If he chose to leave the grounds, would anyone stop him? He scowled, Snape would stop him long enough to dose him with veritiserum and force information from him first.

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had more immediate things to worry about. No doubt the other Slytherins would be wondering where he was and they would ambush him the second they saw him. The only opportunity to avoid contact with them was if he was close to the Gryffindors, or being very involved in the lesson. Draco suddenly blinked. That was it! If he could somehow convince Hagrid to allow Draco to assist him, then he would be able to avoid the Slytherins. It would raise a lot of suspicion, by everyone, but it would be worth it.

He had no doubt he could convince the great oaf to let him help. Draco often hung back with the rest of the class but Hagrid had somehow noticed how gifted he was with magical creatures. He still remembered his first class with Hagrid. Although he had been attacked by the hippogriff for insulting it, the beast had been friendlier towards him than any of the other students. Hagrid had noticed, and also probably noticed that Draco had barely even begun to bow before it had bowed back in the beginning. Draco had kept back after that, but he had never had any trouble handling magical creatures, aside from stupidly insulting a couple here and there, and Hagrid had tried to approach him about it many times, only to be cruelly mocked away.

Draco hoped Hagrid would overlook those insults. He also hoped no one had told Hagrid about the incident in the holidays, not that they knew anything concrete though. Draco sighed and decided to head over to Hagrid's hut early to convince him, the half-giant never ate breakfast at school if he had a lesson first thing. Sure enough, as Draco approached, Hagrid was standing outside.

The half-giant eyed him suspiciously as he approached, and Draco really couldn't blame him. Normally he would never associate with a half-breed but he had no choice, he was desperate to avoid the Slytherins. Draco could see Hagrid was standing in front of a crate that most likely held the creature they would be learning about today. The fastest way to convince Hagrid to let him assist would be displaying extensive knowledge of the creature. All he needed was to catch a glimpse of it. No one really knew that Draco was so gifted with magical creatures, it was a passion he kept hidden from everyone else. He highly doubted his father would ever have approved, in fact he probably would have done something truly gruesome to shock it out of his system. It had frustrated him to no end that Hagrid had seen this so easily when he had been trying to hide it so hard.

"Mornin', Malfoy," Hagrid greeted cautiously. "Yeh're here early."

Draco came closer and nodded at him, trying to catch a glimpse of the crate. He smiled a little when he recognised the creature instantly. He knew it would be fairly easy to convince Hagrid now.

"Morning, Professor," he said, drudging up the politest and nicest tone he could manage. By the look of dumb shock on the oaf's face, he knew he had succeeded.

He walked around Hagrid a little to get a closer look at the creature in the crate. It was obviously stunned to prevent escape.

"How did you get your hands on a runespoor?" he asked in awe, surprisingly genuine. "And one with all three heads too!"

Hagrid glanced at the crate and back at Draco, looking worried.

"I know a few people, an' I have special permission ter own one, from both Dumbledore a-"

"I wasn't asking about the legality of you having one, Professor," Draco quickly interrupted. "I'm just surprised, they are so hard to find, especially with all three heads intact. Can I handle it?"

Hagrid looked surprised, and still a little wary. He nodded though, probably wanting to see if Draco still had the gift he had shown in third year, or maybe he had never learnt that children shouldn't handle dangerous animals. Draco couldn't really blame him for his suspicion, although it annoyed him. Last year he probably would have instantly tried to get the teacher fired for owning a runespoor.

With great care, Draco ended the spell on the three-headed snake. He watched it slither around, exploring its crate before he dared to approach it. He knew exactly how to handle them, and wondered briefly if Hagrid had been relying on Potter to gain its cooperation. It worried him a little, knowing that Hagrid may not let him help out with Potter around, with his being able to talk to it. There was no competing with a Parselmouth. Still, he genuinely wanted to handle it, even if it didn't get him what he wanted.

Draco carefully lowered his hand into the crate. Runespoors were not naturally aggressive, so it wouldn't attack him unless he surprised it or made it feel threatened. The runespoor slithered over to his hand and inspected it, tasted it, and then began slithering its way up his arm until it was wrapped around his bicep. More confident now that it had accepted him, Draco reached out and stroked a finger over its scales, marvelling at how smooth they were, like water almost. He became so caught up in the creature that he had forgotten Hagrid was even there.

"Oh, you are beautiful," he murmured, stroking it but avoiding its heads. It was a common fact that the heads fought quite often, he wouldn't want to show favouritism and cause a fight.

"Yeh have a real gift, Malfoy," Hagrid said softly, jolting Draco out of his reverie.

He looked over and saw Hagrid was looking at him with respect. After everything he had done to the teacher, seeing this made him feel incredibly sad. Draco was not one to feel guilt over things he had already done, the very few times that he had felt guilt, his pride had forced him to do nothing. But he couldn't look at this teacher he had abused and stay silent.

"Professor," he said, not really knowing what to say but knowing he had to say something, "I-"

Hagrid suddenly looked over his shoulder and Draco turned to see his classmates arriving. One look at the Slytherins confirmed that they were intent on talking to him, and they didn't look happy either. Draco felt at tingle of fear, wondering what they had been told. He looked back at Hagrid to find the teacher looking between the Slytherins and Draco, almost knowingly. Was Draco's fear showing like it had the night before?

When the other students got close enough, a few of them gasped at the six foot runespoor attached to Draco's arm. Draco moved to put it back in the crate but Hagrid stopped him, Draco sighed quietly in relief and turned back to face the class.

"Mornin'" Hagrid said cheerfully. "As yeh can see, today's lesson is on runespoors. Malfoy here is goin' ter handle it for me, an' if yeh're lucky, it may let yeh touch it."

Malfoy couldn't help a small smile form as he stroked the runespoor again, hearing it hiss contentedly. Despite what others, even some Slytherins, said, Draco always thought snakes were such calming creatures. Sometimes he found the hissing hypnotic or relaxing.

"Now, who knows about runespoors?" Hagrid asked.

"Runespoors are native to Burkina Faso," Granger began in dull lecture tones. "They are very valuable due to their eggs being used in potions to enhance mental ability. They are the only known magical creatures to produce eggs through their mouths. Their eggs, and the runespoors themselves are commonly sold on the black market and as such are becoming a rare and protected species."

"Well done, five points ter Gryffindor," beamed Hagrid. "Anythin' else?"

The class all looked back at Hermione who looked confused, as if she thought that was all there was. Draco rolled his eyes at her ignorance. She had probably only read about runespoors through a potions assignment and knew nothing about their behaviour.

"The three heads have independent brains with a different role each. A critic, a dreamer, and a planner. It is difficult to procure a runespoor but even more difficult to obtain one with all three heads intact. Quite often two of the heads will gang up on the critic. They are not naturally aggressive and will not attack without shock or provocation," he said, trying not to sound like Granger, although he was sure his enthusiasm was leaking into his voice. "When handling one, it is best not to touch their heads as they may take it as favouritism and fight about it."

Hagrid beamed again. "Five points ter Slytherin."

Potter quietly moved away from his friends as Hagrid began talking about how to care for the runespoor. Draco's eyes immediately latched on to him. He had been wondering when Potter would try to talk to the snake. Sure enough, when Potter approached he began hissing quietly. A few heads turned and then soon the entire class was watching as Potter conversed with the runespoor.

As soon as they heard their language, the three heads moved in unison to look over at Potter. Potter moved closer and cautiously held out a hand for them to examine, hissing all the while, not even looking at Draco. The three heads inspected him in turn and relaxed as they found him not threatening, but surprisingly they would not leave Draco.

Potter dropped his hand and hissed something, glancing at Draco in confusion. His eyes widened at the answer the heads gave him. He hissed back rapidly before shaking his head in disbelief. He glanced at Draco strangely again before reaching out to pet it.

"Not the heads, Potter," Draco said quickly, pulling his arm just out of reach.

Potter nodded and Draco placed his arm back into reach. As soon as Potter made contact with the snake, it tightened its grip around Draco's arm, causing him to gasp. He risked a glance at Potter to find him pulling back and looking sad. The snake hissed and Potter suddenly looked angry. He hissed something back in what sounded like a scathing tone and turned back to the class.

He must have changed his expression though because everyone smiled or laughed when he said snakes were good conversationalists. Draco stroked the runespoor as Potter went back to his friends, feeling relieved when it finally relaxed. He tried to ignore what he knew about runespoors, but he found that he just couldn't. Runespoors were especially talented at sensing dark magic, and most didn't like it.

At the end of the lesson, Hagrid asked Draco to stay behind. He gladly stayed and helped Hagrid put the snake into an enclosure inside the teacher's house. After staring at the snake wistfully for a few seconds, Draco thanked Hagrid for letting him handle it and turned to leave, but Hagrid called him back.

"Did it like Harry?" Hagrid asked quietly, looking a little anxious.

Draco stared back, wondering if he should lie. He couldn't see how it would matter, of course it might make Hagrid feel better. But still, it wasn't right for the snake to be anxious around a Parselmouth. Part of him was curious to see what Hagrid would say.

"It talked to him fine, it was fine after it inspected his hand, but as soon as he touched it..." Draco broke off, unsure how to explain. It hadn't become violent after all. "It didn't like being touched by him."

Hagrid sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I thought as much, poor Harry."

Draco frowned before realising Potter must actually like snakes. An interesting thought, although he could understand why. Snakes were tied to Voldemort. "I know what it means, professor."

Hagrid nodded, "I figured yeh would. Can' tell yeh anythin' I'm afraid. If yeh ever want ter see it, don' hesitate ter come down, yeh hear?"

Draco surprised himself by smiling in response.

"Thank you, professor," he said genuinely and left for his next class.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Draco was late by the time he stumbled into potions. Snape glared at him as he took a seat, surprisingly, alone at the back.

"Care to explain where you were, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked dangerously.

Draco narrowed his eyes back, he was tempted to lie so points would be taken from Slytherin, which Snape hated doing. But too many people knew the truth anyway.

"I was helping Professor Hagrid with his runespoor, sir," he replied, not even bothering to keep his tone polite.

Snape's nostrils flared but he didn't do anything about it. He stared at Draco for a few more minutes before resuming his lesson. Snape was only teaching sixth and seventh year potions that year as he was also taking on Defence Against the Dark Arts. Draco had no idea who the other potions teacher was, but he briefly wished Snape just gave up potions entirely. He didn't want to deal with him in two classes. Glancing over at Potter, he knew he felt the same.

After half the class was spent in a lecture about priorities and how Snape believed only half the students would make it through the year, he set them a rather simple potion to complete in the remaining time, to test how much they remembered. With his mind still on the events of the previous class, Draco kept an eye on Potter.

He hadn't noticed it at the time, because he'd been worried about himself, but Potter hadn't been talking when he'd climbed into the carriage the previous night. Potter had been relatively silent during dinner also, barely looking up from his plate at all. And again, in Care of Magical Creatures, Potter had barely talked to anyone.

Draco was extremely suspicious about it, taking it to be some kind of plotting rather than Potter just not wanting to talk to anyone. Combined with the runespoor sensing Dark magic on him, Potter was starting to seem more suspicious than usual. He was obviously ignoring Granger and Weasley now, and they were talking to him in rapid, hushed tones. Draco was surprised Potter was putting up with them, he would have already left their workstation. Glancing around the room, Draco quickly realised exactly why Potter hadn't left them, Draco's workstation was the only one available.

Draco smirked, glad he was making Potter's life harder after the embarrassment of Potter seeing him crying. Then his eyes widened. Of course! Granger and Weasley were trying to find out what Potter had seen on the train. Granger had been very curious when she heard Potter had seen him, all Potter had to do was let slip that there was a spell involved and she wouldn't give up. Then there was the thestral issue, they'd want to talk about it. Potter was probably overly sensitive about the issue of death after Black had just been killed.

Or Draco could be wrong about everything and be worrying himself over nothing. Either way, he had his own problems to deal with, as the icy glares coming from the Slytherins suggested. Pansy was looking completely livid with him, an expression that he had to admit left him rather anxious. The girl was surprising good at sneaking around, so he wouldn't be surprised if she managed to corner him somewhere in the near future.

They weren't even being subtle about it. An entire half of the class was looking at Draco in either curiosity and confusion, or malice and scheming. Draco knew without a doubt that the Slytherins had all been told about the incident in the holidays, but he had no idea what exactly they knew. There was a Slytherin tradition though, parents would go from family to family, ensuring that other children at the school would bring back their wayward child. He shuddered at the thought of what some of these Slytherins might do to take him back to his family.

Draco shifted his gaze to Snape. Would his head of house even step in if things got out of hand? Snape always knew what went on in every single nook and cranny of the dungeons, if he noticed a fight, would he bother to intervene? Draco knew that his father didn't trust Snape, but he wasn't sure if that meant Snape was on the side of the light, or whether he'd simply insulted Lucius at some stage. Lucius' ability to hold a grudge had been unfortunately passed to his son, and it had caused Draco a lot of trouble over the years. His whole vendetta against Potter was caused by a grudge, Draco was still angry about Potter refusing his hand, even though it was years ago.

Draco was jolted from his thoughts at the heavy thud next to him. Looking over, he realised Potter had just dumped his books next to Draco. Potter stood and stared at Draco for a few seconds before taking the seat next to him. Draco stared at him for a few seconds before glancing at Granger and Weasley. They looked shocked, confused, and angry. Clearly Potter hadn't been able to hold out till the end of class.

"Only spot free," the boy muttered, not really looking at Draco again.

"If you don't at least do something with this potion, Snape will put you in detention," Draco said, not sure why he was helping Potter in the first place. "When it turns purple, add the daisy roots, and then stir anti-clockwise for two minutes, then clockwise four times."

"Don't think you can just make me finish it because I came over here!" Potter snapped angrily.

Draco rolled his eyes and snapped back, "If you want a detention then by all means, don't help. I could easily finish it perfectly myself, and to a far greater standard that if you helped!" For some reason he felt a little put out that his offer of help was snapped at, especially because he hadn't meant to be kind in the first place.

Potter glared at him for a few seconds before catching the colour change out of the corner of his eye. He slapped Draco's hands away from the roots and tossed them in himself. He began stirring in sullen silence, glaring at Draco every few seconds.

"I'm sorry, for what Ron said in the carriage," Potter muttered, still not looking at him. "He had no right to accuse you of something like that."

Draco nearly sliced of his finger as he looked over at Potter in surprise. He carefully abandoned his dicing, and gave Potter his full attention. Now that he could get a closer look, he saw that Potter wasn't looking too good. There were dark circles under his eyes, more obvious because his skin was unnaturally pale, where he had always been kind of tanned. He looked too thin too, as if he wasn't eating properly.

"I think it's obvious the comment bothered you more," he sneered, not sure how to react around this shadow of Potter. "Besides, what makes you so sure I wasn't torturing or learning to kill?"

"If you were, then it's clear you regret it," Potter murmured back, not looking away from his watch. "I saw you on the train, remember?"

The two minutes must have been up, for Potter stopped stirring anti-clockwise and began the clockwise stirs, counting under his breath. Draco hurried to finish dicing the next ingredient.

"You don't know anything about me, Potter," Draco snapped, a little louder than he had intended, but a casual sweep of the class showed that no one had overheard.

Potter didn't reply after that and they fell into silence, passing ingredients around as they finished the potion. It was quite a surprise that they received full marks on the potion. But it was more of a surprise when Potter pulled Draco aside outside the class and whispered in his ear.

"I may not know anything about you, but I don't believe you killed her."

Draco choked on a gasp and pulled away from Potter, pushing through the other students and rushing away, desperate to be alone before he broke down. All the way down the corridor, he could feel Potter's eyes on his back.

People were giving him odd looks, and he knew his indifferent mask was seconds from slipping away. Blindly, he left the castle and rushed down to the lake. Upon reaching the shore, he could stand it no longer and fell to his knees, a harsh sob tearing from his chest. He covered his mouth with his hands, pressing as hard as he could to prevent the sound escaping again. He couldn't afford to break down so early in the term.

Despite the pressure over his mouth, the inhuman sobbing still escaped him and tears were falling so thickly he couldn't even see. If he had been in his right state of mind, he would have been horrified that he sounded like he was in such pain. But he couldn't think of anything but forcing the sobs back into his chest.

He didn't know how long he sat there, shuddering and letting out muffled sobs. It was only the first day, and he hadn't even lasted three classes. He couldn't go on like that. But there was nothing he could do! Who could he go to? Dumbledore would probably lock him away. Snape, well he didn't want to think what Snape would do, he still didn't know where his loyalties lay. He had no one to go to, no one to help him.

Draco didn't register something touching him until it wrapped around his leg. He gasped and jerked backwards, wand out. He froze when he realised what was it was. The three heads of the runespoor watched him warily as it slithered up his body and curled around his arm. Draco stared at it, his vision still blurry, not believing what he was seeing. He gingerly reached out to pet it, confirming that it was real.

As the runespoor hissed in a comforting way, Draco dared to look around. Sure enough, he saw Hagrid's retreating back, moving back towards his hut. Draco felt a swell of gratitude and continued to pet the runespoor, feeling calm finally reclaim him. He knew that Hagrid would say nothing, and since the runespoor had rejected Potter, he didn't have to worry about the boy finding out from the snake. He didn't understand why Hagrid was doing this, but he couldn't let it go on without talking to him and thanking him. Draco had changed but he didn't know if he was capable of apologising to anyone yet.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Draco bit the inside of his lip. He had known that skipping half a day of lessons, especially on the first day, would have consequences, but they were not what he had expected. He had expected a string of unpleasant detentions, not tea with Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was presently staring over the rim of his teacup at Draco in his infuriatingly expectant way. Dumbledore would not think this was punishment, but to Draco it was far worse than any kind of detention possible. After his break down that day, Draco knew he had to talk to someone, after all, he couldn't go around skipping classes, but Dumbledore? No, that was not even an option.

So Draco stared back, sipping his tea and glancing curiously around the room. He wouldn't admit it, but if the circumstances were different he would have no problem returning, the tea alone was worth it, and the room was stunning. There was a certain eccentricity to everything, but the placement was very artistic. Draco particularly like the way the windows were accented by having gold artefacts near them to catch the light and throw a golden glow around the room. The glass itself was stained in intricate patterns, but no actual scene was depicted, unlike most other tower windows.

So, in all, while the room and the tea were pleasant, the occupant was not.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'll have to ask you again," Dumbledore said quietly in a kind, but forceful tone, "Why weren't you in your classes following potions?"

Draco put his cup down and stared at his hands, chewing his lip as he tried to think of a convincing lie. Part of him was hoping that if he just refused to answer, he'd be given detention and asked to leave, but he knew it wouldn't be that easy. Cursing Potter for his comment, he bit his lip harder and stayed silent. He didn't know what to say.

"Professor Snape said that you were working next to Mr. Potter," Dumbledore continued, in a tone that hesitated on nearly every word, as if he expected Draco to finish the sentence for him.

"Potter came to my workstation two thirds into the class, Sir," Draco replied, finally able to say _something_. "It was his choice."

Dumbledore nodded and sipped his tea again. His silent staring had Draco tense. He kept his eyes lowered, not willing to let Dumbledore catch them and use Legilimency. He had no proof that the Headmaster used that skill on students, but the fact he always knew what was going on certainly was suspicious.

"Did Mr. Potter say something to upset you," asked Dumbledore, pushing further.

Draco lifted his head to make some kind of sharp retort when the door suddenly burst open. The boy in question rushed in.

"Voldemort, Weasley's, attack!" Potter gasped, looking shaky and pale, eyes wide and haunted.

Dumbledore immediately rose and, glancing at Draco, pulled Potter into a corner. Draco frowned; did Dumbledore want him to hear their conversation? Why not just cast a silencing spell, Draco could clearly hear them from where he was seated.

"Calm down, Harry," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Tell me what you saw."

"He's going to attack the Weasley house, tonight. He's pissed about something, something to do with me. You have to send the Order, you have to do something!" Potter said rapidly, still gasping to regain his breath, having clearly sprinted to the office.

"Yes, but did you see anything else, Harry? Anything strange?"

Potter frowned, "No, he tortured a few Death Eaters, but that's completely normal for him. Although Nagini was acting a little odd, I guess."

"How was Nagini odd?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

"How was Nagini odd?" Potter snapped, voice radiating anger. "Why are asking about his fucking snake? Shouldn't you be more concerned about the attack? If they die be-"

"No one is going to die!" Dumbledore said strongly, cutting Potter off. "I need to know about Nagini, Harry. If Voldemort was sending you this vision on purpose, he wouldn't show Nagini doing something strange."

"Sending the vision?" Potter said, voice deadly. "Do you honestly think that after last year I haven't learned the difference between the visions he sends me and the ones I see without his knowledge? I'm not stupid enough to make that mistake again!"

"I know you're not, Harry, I didn't mean that but I do need to know what was strange about Nagini! It may have something to do with the attack."

Draco watched a staring match ensue between the two of them. He couldn't believe they were letting him hear this conversation. What if he was in contact with his father and Voldemort, he could easily warn them that the attack would not be a surprise. He narrowed his eyes, he really should tell them as soon as he could.

"She kept hissing the same thing over and over, but she was too far away for me to hear what she was saying. All I caught was something about 'true death'. Whatever she was saying was aggravating Voldemort to the point of him yelling at her. Now do something about the Weasley's or I will go there myself!"

Dumbledore took a step back from Potter, looking deeply disturbed. He nodded and rushed from the room without a backwards glance. Draco watched him leave then glanced back at Potter who stumbled to a chair and buried his face in his hands. Draco didn't dare move. Had Potter even noticed him when he had rushed in? If not, how was he going to react to having Draco hear everything he had said?

Draco glanced around again, half hoping Dumbledore would come back just so he was not alone with Potter. He shifted a little in his chair and then decided leaving would be the best option, at least then he wouldn't have to continue his horrid conversation with the Headmaster. As soon as he moved, Potter's head shot up.

"It goes without saying that you tell no one what you heard here," he said, almost conversationally, although there was a silent threat behind his words.

Regardless of his determination not to ever mention anything about his situation to anyone, Draco couldn't help snapping, "Who exactly would I be telling, Potter? I'd say my isolation is pretty fucking complete at this point!"

Potter sighed and sent Draco a wary look.

"Of course I've noticed that, who hasn't? I just don't know how far that isolation spreads outside of Hogwarts. And I wouldn't leave until he tells you to," Potter paused to glance at the doorway. "You may find a few nasty surprises if you do, though nothing that can be linked back to him, of course."

Potter's expression darkened and he leaned back into his chair and seemed to promptly forget about Draco's presence. Draco looked at the door suspiciously before deciding he definitely believed Dumbledore was capable of foul play, and settled back into his chair also.

The room darkened significantly before Draco looked over at Potter again. He had heard rumours that the boy could see visions of Voldemort's actions, but he had never put much faith in rumours and gossip, even though he used it for his bullying. He was annoyingly curious about it, but knew better than to ask about something as delicate as that. He hadn't known the events surrounding Black's death, but it was clear now that Potter was lured away by false visions. Draco couldn't repress a shudder at how guilty Potter must feel about that.

Draco wasn't prone to sympathetic feelings towards anyone but himself or his family, but there was no denying the pain Potter went through, now that Draco was no longer blinded as he had once been. Draco actually felt quite shocked at Dumbledore's behaviour. Why would the headmaster ignore the most crucial of information in favour of some trivial detail about a snake?

Although Draco had the feeling he had heard the phrase 'True Death' somewhere before. Struggling to remember it, he hadn't realised he had been staring at Potter for a while. When he finally gave up hunting for the origin of that phrase, he realised Potter was staring back. Blinking, Draco looked away.

"Pomfrey doesn't ask questions, no matter the state you are in, as long as no other student is in danger. She'll make sure you don't get pulled up for any absences too," Potter said quietly. "There are isolated rooms out of sight."

Draco turned back around at gaped at Potter. The presumption drove him into a blind rage, but understanding kept it in check. Potter was telling him something. Potter understood why Draco had rushed off, had he been so obvious about it? Potter was also telling him he had breakdowns also, but to what purpose was he sharing this?

"Or there's the Room of Requirement," Potter added a few seconds later.

Draco flinched, wondering if Potter would start a fight over it. When Potter said nothing else and simply went back to staring at the trinkets in the cabinet nearest to him, Draco relaxed a little. The room of requirement would be useful, but it wouldn't explain any absences, so he'd have to go at night, but then he'd risk getting caught. Still, it was better than going to Pomfrey.

"For what it's worth, I know you aren't a Death Eater, like everyone else thinks," Potter suddenly said, looking back at Draco.

Draco scowled at him. It was a declaration similar to this that had caused him to break down once already that day, was Potter trying to make him break again? Maybe he was working with Dumbledore to get him to talk. It was highly likely that Potter could get him angry enough to snap without thinking, and he'd found out that day that he could also get Draco to completely break down. But Potter hadn't looked at Dumbledore like he used to, there wasn't as much respect there anymore. Was the Golden Boy finally seeing the old man for what he was?

"I'd appreciate it if you left me alone, Potter," he replied quietly. "There's no reason to associate with me, we're not even on the same side!"

Before Potter could reply, Dumbledore swept into the room, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to know what Potter would have said back to that, Potter always did seem desperate for the last word, something he couldn't deny that they had in common. The headmaster dismissed Draco with a wave of his hand, and Draco hastily complied. Glancing back as he left the room, Draco saw Dumbledore sit very far away from Potter and begin talking in rapid hushed tones. Shaking his head at how strange the headmaster was around Potter, Draco shut the door behind him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_Draco walked through the halls of Malfoy Manor. It was midnight dark, and he could see that he was glowing. It was clear to him that it was a dream, but he felt a pull towards something, and so he followed. With every step that he took, he was afraid the guilt would rear its head, but it did not. It seemed that nothing could affect him. Briefly he wondered if he would see his family, but soon realised that was not possible._

_Malfoy Manor wasn't the way he had left it just the other day. There was dust settled on everything, as if it had not been lived in for years, or it was very empty, and there were portraits missing. In fact, there were also a few portraits that Draco did not recognise, nor ever expected to see gracing the halls of such pure-blood fanatics. A few of the portraits contained black haired men and women, their aristocratic features and facial structured indicated Malfoy blood, but the hair just wasn't possible. Anything but pure white hair meant a tainting of the blood, Malfoy's only ever married other white-haired purebloods, or at least white-haired enough generations back for it to be pure. Draco could only conclude that he was viewing a different era. He would have believed it to be the future except for the strange feeling that he was viewing the past, a long, long, time ago._

_Moving on from the strange portraits, Draco continued to following the strange pull as it led him towards the library. Instead of opening the door, Draco glided right through it, more evidence that he was dreaming, and he still would not wake. Inside the library there were candles lit, and strangely, there were people. Draco drifted closer, intent on hearing what they were muttering._

"_Are you sure the book will be safe here, Lord Malfoy?" a cloaked figure was saying. _

"_Do you doubt my ability to protect your secrets? You know I would protect you to your death, if I could live long enough! As it were, another has that fate," said the other man, sounding rather bitter. "But I will do all I can nonetheless."_

_This man was obviously a Malfoy, and Draco was relieved to see the familiar hair. Although the similarities ended there. This man was not cold and proper, he was showing emotion on his face, and clearly not bothered about it. _

"_Do not take it personally, I find it difficult to trust anyone after recent events. Until I find the wizard responsible for the Avada Kedavra curse, and the man who killed Kavalhra, I cannot trust anyone," the cloaked figure replied, and Draco could faintly hear a feminine quality to the voice, although he was not certain._

_Frowning over the name 'Kavalhra', which he was sure he'd heard somewhere before, Draco moved closer, trying to get a glimpse of the book they were discussing._

"_You will have to change that! When you find your Guardian, you must trust him, or her, with not only your life, but the very balance of your soul," Lord Malfoy replied coldly._

"_Jealousy does not become you," the hooded person replied quietly. "I did not choose this fate, nor do I want it. I'm not sure I will even receive a Guardian, I'm sure only those of Kavalhra's blood do. I wasn't supposed to be like this. If the gods do exist then they may want me to die so one of the right blood may take my place, the curse supposedly travels through the blood, I don't know how it transferred to me."_

_Lord Malfoy suddenly reached out, grasping the cloaked figure's arm. Draco moved even closer, suddenly wanting to see what was behind the hood._

"_If you do not receive a Guardian then I will take that position! I will not allow you to die, and do not for a second tell me you cannot, for you are not of Kavalhra's blood, no doubt you can die, the curse cannot sustain you the way it sustained him. There will be no manipulation from the murderer to warn you, he will kill you outright, it may be difficult, but it will be possible, do not become reckless."_

_The cloaked figure raised a hand and ran it through Lord Malfoy's hair, almost reverently. This seemed to calm him down, for he released her arm, for Draco now knew it was a woman after hearing the voice closer._

"_With hair like this you could be a Guardian, if not, it will most certainly be one of your relatives, the fairer of course," she said softly. "Perhaps it is in your blood to be Guardians; it was your ancestral Aunt who guarded Kavalhra after all."_

"_If only she had succeeded, then Kavalhra would still be alive," the Malfoy said sadly, looking to his left. _

_Draco followed his gaze and his breath caught in his throat. He was promptly jolted awake._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Draco lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time after his dream. For a while he was sure it was real, but it couldn't have been. If that painting was truly at Malfoy Manor, he would have seen it, for no one could forget such an image. He was plagued with the same feeling he had experienced in Dumbledore's office, he was sure he had heard 'Kavalhra' before, but he just couldn't place it. Perhaps in a book he had read, but he usually remembered most of what he read.

Giving up any thoughts of his dream, for they only confused him, Draco opted instead to play over his brief conversation with Potter in his head. Thinking of Potter no longer dredged up the hate, frustration, or jealousy it once had. He wasn't surprised by this lack of hate towards the Gryffindor, he never did have the capacity to hate someone who was in a situation similar to himself. Part of him was curious how different things would have been if he'd seen Potter more clearly a few years earlier.

Frowning, he was taken back to his dream. The eyes of the man in the painting had been green like Potter's. An vibrant killing curse green that no other had. But how could that be possible, Potter inherited his eyes from his mother, who was muggle-born, and a Malfoy would never associate with muggles, even that far back in the past, if it was even real. No, it couldn't be real. It was a dream, a vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. Draco would do best to forget all about it.

* * *

><p>Feedback would be much appreciated, I'd especially like to know if I should have split this chapter up, it seems like a lot to get through...<p>

Since the chapters are huge, they do take me a while to write, part 2 is finished but I won't post it until I've done part 3, so I have still have room to change things.


	3. Part 2

**Part Two**

**About a month later**

Draco didn't know how he had endured so long. Every day he would wake up and _that night_ would flash before his eyes. He would screw up his eyes as tight as he could and try to banish her pleading face. Every day was a trial, as he forced his face into an expression that kept questions at bay. He knew that Dumbledore and Snape still wanted to talk to him, but they hadn't tried anything since that awful tea with Dumbledore. Draco knew very well his parents would have handled the evidence in such a way that all the headmaster had was suspicion but no proof. He didn't quite understand why Dumbledore didn't just bring in the Aurors to arrest him. If he knew what had happened, as he seemed to, then it was the perfect opportunity to bring down one of the Malfoy family.

Even without Dumbledore and Snape in the picture, he had plenty to worry about from the Slytherins. The glares he was receiving from his house became darker and darker the more he avoided them, this left him with no doubt; they knew what he had done, and every day he shied away from them, he proved his betrayal of the cause. He kept his head down in class and always arrived late so that no one could talk to him. The only class he enjoyed was Care of Magical creatures, as Hagrid now used him every lesson as a handler, knowing the animals seemed to like him right away. Hagrid also seemed to know that Draco was avoiding his house and that they wouldn't corner him if he was near the large, and admittedly, intimidating, professor.

Draco didn't know what he thought of Hagrid anymore. The half-giant did not seem bear a grudge against all that Draco had done to him, and for that Draco was both thankful and extremely thrown off balance. No one had ever just _forgiven_ him before. In fact, before that year, Draco had not known the touch of forgiveness, and it left him very humbled. He spent more time outside than he had ever done in his life, and as a result, he discovered hidden places all around the grounds that were perfect for solitude. The grounds were teeming with life, magical and non-magical creatures were everywhere, and Draco had never noticed before. But he did notice now; he noticed that animals seemed to like him, even more than usual. Again he wondered, as he had when he was younger, whether animals could sense despair.

Sometimes he would swear that Hagrid had sent the animals in his direction, or at least told them to keep an eye out for him. It hadn't escaped his notice that when Hagrid talked to animals, they almost always seemed to understand him. He realised that, in a way, Hagrid had taken it upon himself to look out for Draco, and although Draco would never be able to talk to Hagrid about his problems, it still comforted him greatly to know he wasn't totally alone.

In fact, it was Hagrid that suggested his latest retreat. There was a secluded area of the lake that was sheltered from view by the forest. Once Draco had overcome his fear of the forest's inhabitants, he had no problem walking through the fringes to get to this secluded shore. It was great place to go and think, and he was sure that only he and Hagrid knew of it, although he was also fairly certain Hagrid would have told Harry about it. Even Draco realised that no one could offer such a retreat to one person when there was another closer to them with equal, if not greater, problems on his shoulders.

Draco had become more aware of Potter's problems lately, although at this point it wouldn't surprise him if everyone knew. The boy was becoming a pale mockery of the hero he was supposed to be. Draco could count the times he had seen him smile genuinely on one hand, and the times he actually talked on two. While he was stewing in his own problems, he could not ignore how much happiness had left Potter. The worst part of it all was that Draco was beginning to blur the line between 'Potter' and 'Harry' until he no longer knew what he should be calling him. He was not used to feeling empathy for anyone, and it threw him off balance. Although it was not surprising in the least that it was Potter affecting his balance, it always was him after all.

Although it surprised Draco that he had survived this far into the school year with his sanity intact and no action from the Slytherins, he was resolved to keep it that way. His pride would not allow him to fall, now that he knew he could carry on.

x-x-x-x-x

The Room of Requirement started to become more appealing as time went on. The Slytherins suddenly began actively seeking Draco out, and were going to greater and more worrying means of doing so. Earlier that day Draco had narrowly avoided being hit by a portkey, no doubt illegal, that came flying out of nowhere on his way to breakfast. A teacher had deflected it at the last minute but they had been unable to discover the one responsible. This didn't surprise Draco in the least; Slytherins never got caught. In response to this incident, the Headmaster gave him an anti-portkey charm, and although Draco was loathe to accept any help from him, he took it anyway.

He had taken to only heading to his room late at night, when he was absolutely sure no one was around or following him. As a result, he had a few hours every night where he had to keep a low profile and avoid being sighted. For this reason, he began considering the Room of Requirement. But every time he made up his mind to go there he was reminded that it was Potter who had suggested it to him and there was that small chance that Potter would be there. Draco knew that no one could access the room while another was using it, but both he and Potter knew enough about the way it worked to manipulate it.

That night, Draco awoke from the same strange dream he'd had at the start of term. He was disgusted to find it was only two in the morning and he'd had only a few hours of sleep, and yet felt completely awake. He lay staring at his ceiling for a long time before he realised he wasn't going to fall asleep again. Pondering what to do, he remembered that the Room of Requirement would give him whatever he needed. Maybe a bed in that room would be so comfortable he would fall to sleep immediately. He didn't like the idea that Potter might show up, but at two in the morning it was rather doubtful that he would. Draco shrugged to himself and left his room. He couldn't keep avoiding things just because of Potter.

x-x-x-x-x

When Draco entered the Room of Requirement he thought for a moment that he had entered the wrong room. There was barely a scrap of furniture, in fact only one comfortable looking chair and a side table. The room was in neutral colours and lighted in a way that did not reveal where the light was coming from. Draco stared about the room in confusion before closing his eyes and thinking about what he needed. The only problem was that he had no idea what he really needed. He wanted an escape from reality, but it was impossible to do so. He wanted to make up his mind on the subject of his parents, but he had no friends to guide him. He had no idea how to accomplish those two things, and beyond that he had no idea what he wanted or needed. Opening his eyes in exasperation, Draco decided to just leave. It was then he noticed something sitting on the table.

He approached the table cautiously, knowing that a moment before it had been empty. He hadn't asked the room for anything particular, or anything at all. Whatever the room had given him must have been dredged up from his subconscious. Part of him hated that a non-living room knew what he needed when he himself did not. As he stood next to the table he realised it was a book. Still looking a little confused, he picked it up and opened it. His eyes widened at what was written on the first page.

_Diary of Hermione Granger_

Draco looked around the room again, convinced it was malfunctioning. Why would he possibly _need_ Granger's diary? In fact he was surprised Granger kept a diary at all, not seeming like one of _those_ girls. He was even more surprised that it was in the Room of Requirement, although that made a little sense, so few knew about it. Strangely, Draco wasn't really tempted to read it. Since he no longer tormented Granger, he had no desire to know any of her secrets. The only reason he hadn't put the book down and left the room was because he must have some subconscious desire to read this, and he was desperate to know why.

Sighing, Draco sat down in the chair, which was surprisingly comfortable and set about reading the diary. It was clear that the room believed that he needed this, so who was he to argue? Perhaps, at the very least, her mundane problems would distract him from his own, darker, problems. After all, he did want to escape reality. However upon reading the very first entry Draco suddenly realised why the room had given him this book, and he settled down to read more intently.

_First day of term, 7:27 am_

_When I was given this journal last year I planned on never using it. I'm not one of those silly girls who must write down her every thought. This journal is not for me, it is for Harry. Well, actually it's for helping me deal with Harry. If I don't vent my thoughts somehow, I know I'll bottle everything up and then I'll explode and damage our friendship with ill-placed words. So, I shall really only be writing about Harry, in an effort to understand things more clearly, the written word always being clearer to me than even my own thoughts._

_So, where to begin?_

_I honestly thought he'd talk to us about the Tournament a little more but he has only told us the bare minimum and the way he said it was all so factual. There was no emotion or opinion in what he said. I just don't understand how he could brush off not only Cedric's death but another encounter with Voldemort. We can't even press him to talk more as he always answers our questions, even though his emotionless answers are insufficient. I just know he's bottling everything inside, and quite honestly, I'm terrified of what he might do or be capable of doing when it all comes pouring out._

_When I mentioned how awful the cruciatus must have been, he just shrugged and said it wasn't too bad! _Wasn't too bad_? I wanted to throttle him! There is a small chance that he meant the pain from his scar was worse, but mostly I just think he was trying to be brave. Doesn't he realise that he doesn't need to be brave for us? Ron said his nightmares are worse than ever, what else could be causing them if the not the incident in the graveyard? If he talked then surely he would feel better._

_I don't know how to handle this detached Harry, I really don't. It hurts a little when he won't confide in me the way he used to, but forcing him would only make matters worse. He's also been in a right state since Malfoy made that comment about 'dogging' his footsteps. Harry needs to realise that Sirius is a fully grown man who can well take care of himself; he did survive Azkaban after all. _

_There's also the problem that is Seamus. I can't believe that idiot would say such things to Harry on the first night back. In my opinion Seamus should have just stayed home like his mother wanted him to._

_What reason does Harry have to lie? He hates attention and avoids it at all costs; anyone who knew him would know he wouldn't use such information to gain more publicity. And it's clear the new publicity he had is damaging his psychological health, not that I believe in psychology of course._

_It's not surprising that Harry is beginning to fade from all this. He isn't eating well, or sleeping. He's withdrawing into himself like an abused little boy, going to his happy place, if he even has one. But I suppose that is really all that he is, an abused little boy._

_I've been awake since three this morning, Harry woke everyone in the boy's dormitory with his screaming. Ron came to wake me, still believing I'm better at talking to Harry because I am a girl. Harry told Ron and I that it was just a nightmare, not one of his 'scar things' as he calls them. We both know he was lying, I don't think he realises how red his scar is after one of those 'things'. When he finally came up with enough excuses that I could no longer reasonably argue with him, I had to return to my dormitory and haven't been able to sleep since._

_This is not a good start to the school year._

Draco shuddered at the thought of someone screaming so loud they woke the dormitory. There were weak silencing charms on all the bed curtains, for privacy, and Draco knew it took a lot of noise to break through them, the kind of noise that needed attention. He was very surprised that Granger was only writing about Potter, but it made sense. He himself would be going crazy if he had to deal with a recluse like Potter. It was clear that deep down he must want to understand Potter, hence why the room gave him Granger's journal. But if he read every entry all the way through, he'd be there for days. Flipping the page he decided to scan through the book and only read what seemed important. Quite a few pages later his eye spotted a word that sent a shiver creeping down his spine.

_Possession? It can't really be true, can it? Harry is so convinced at this point I don't think there is any way to correct him. He hasn't talked to anyone all day. I can't imagine how he feels, the idea of Voldemort being there just beneath the skin, I really hate writing that name, but 'fear of a name' and all that. I think a small part of him is pleased that his dreams are explained though. Although being the snake that attacked Mr. Weasley must have been a horrible experience, one that he _refuses to talk about!

_In fact, this means that he was right when he said he had 'seen' Voldemort's plans to kill him during the Tournament. The curiosity is maddening, all those dreams which he shrugged off with 'you don't want to know', were they all real too? What is happening to him? Is two-way possession even real? Is he actually seeing things through Voldemort's eyes? Is Voldemort seeing everything through Harry's eyes?_

Draco let the book slide through his fingers. He suddenly didn't want to read anymore. Seeing through Voldemort's eyes? That was too horrifying to think about; Draco knew the kinds of things Potter must have been seeing. Even he, who still had a small part of him wanting that path, knew it would be awful to witness. In a way it explained some of the darkness that was visible in Potter's eyes when he thought no one was looking. Although it still didn't explain the darkness the runespoor sensed.

Draco tensed, he desperately wanted to know what happened in the Department of Mysteries. Potter had come back to school that year so deeply changed that something truly awful must have happened, something that went beyond the death of Sirius Black. Was Draco's curiosity stronger than the repulsion? He shuddered lightly, already reaching for the diary. Just as he had it in his hands the door suddenly burst open.

With reflexes he really didn't think he had, Draco threw the book into a corner, knowing the room would hide it for him. Sure enough, it sunk into the floor as Draco turned to look at the door. Harry Potter stood staring at him. Draco quickly took in the tear tracks down his face and the trembles racking his body before deciding he'd best leave before Potter took his problems out on him. Already the room was changing, and Draco didn't like the look of all the breakable glass items around him. He stood and headed towards the door, trying not to look at Potter. Just as he reached the door and passed him, he couldn't help but glance at him, and meet his eyes.

Draco shuddered at the pain he saw there, and the idea that Voldemort may be looking out at him. He quickly exited the room.

x-x-x-x-x

Draco was extremely shaken by Granger's diary and the look in Potter's eyes that he decided to hide himself away for the day to think everything over. He didn't want to risk the Room of Requirement again, for fear of running into Potter once more. Instead, he decided to go to the hidden cove of the lake that Hagrid had shown him, and pray that he hadn't shown Potter also. Ever since he had woken, Draco had a strange sense of foreboding, as if something extremely bad was going to happen that day, but something very important also. So he was extremely careful leaving his room, ensuring that no Slytherin saw him, or any other person for that matter.

He managed to escape the castle easily enough and quickly hurried to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The forest still frightened him, but Hagrid had taken him in one night to find a rare creature, and since then it didn't seem so bad. Another thing to thank the half-giant for. Draco was running up quite a debt to him, and strangely he didn't mind at all. He resolved to go and see Hagrid when he was done at the lake, it was about time to visit the runespoor again anyway.

Smiling at the thought of the snake, Draco pushed through the last line of bushes and then froze in place. His first thought, when confronted by a boy standing on the shore, was irritation, how dare someone be there now? But looking a little closer Draco felt a cold sinking feeling as he recognised Potter. Torn, he didn't know whether to turn and leave or confront him. Twice Potter had ruined his plans. All Draco wanted was solitude somewhere secluded so he could sort out his problems. If this was Fate's way of telling him Potter could help, then he wasn't amused.

A small movement drew his attention and his eyes followed Harry's wand as it fell to the ground, as if in slow motion. He twitched at the clattering wood on stone, a wave of ice surged through him. He did not expect anyone who faced a wizard as dangerous and powerful as Voldemort to ever willingly let his wand leave his person. What was Potter thinking? There were still dangerous creatures around, did he have a death wish? Draco was becoming increasingly curious and, strangely, concerned, by Potter's behaviour.

Glancing back at the boy he saw him shedding his school robes. Draco's face twisted in disgust, thinking he was stripping to swim. He was going to turn away but he saw Potter made no move to remove the rest of his clothes. Draco screwed up his brow in confusion, what was Potter doing? Suddenly the sense of foreboding was back, causing Draco to shiver, eyes riveted as Potter removed his glasses and let them fall to the ground. The sound of shattering glass caused another shiver to run down his spine, or perhaps it was the sight of Potter not even flinching at the sound, that affected him so.

When the boy began wading into the lake Draco wanted to move forward and demand to know what he was doing, fearing whatever was causing such a dark sense of foreboding in him. He could think of no explanation for what Potter was doing, in fact whatever he was doing seemed quite insane. He watched Potter stop as the water reached his chin. He held his own breath as what he was witnessing finally made sense. When Potter disappeared from view he was still frozen from shock. It all made sense, the way Potter had withdrawn himself so far this year, the look in his eyes in the Room of Requirement, hell, the look in his eyes whenever he thought no one was looking. The perfect hero, Harry Potter, was committing suicide, and Draco Malfoy was the one to witness it.

The Wizarding World's only hope was leaving them all to die.

He let out the breath he had held and then hesitated in his thoughts. That wasn't like the hero Potter acted like at all. Potter was always doing something righteous, saving lives and basking in attention and glory. No, that wasn't right and Draco knew it. He didn't even know what Potter was or acted like anymore, the boy always covered his emotions in a way he had not been able to before the start of school that year. Perhaps Draco had simply interpreted the situation wrong. The stupid boy was probably just swimming. But then why discard his wand and glasses when he knew full well what lived in the lake?

While Draco had been thinking, Potter had still not surfaced and he found himself moving before knowing his own intentions. The sense of foreboding, and something strange that felt like fate, was urging him forwards. The water was like ice as he dove into it, unaware he was even doing so. The sharp stabs of cold disorientating him before he caught sight of Harry a fair way deeper. All doubt gone, guided by instinct, he swam deeper until he was within arm's reach of him.

When he really looked at Potter he nearly breathed in water. There was a strange green glow around him. Draco stared for a few seconds before his lungs started protesting. He decided it was just the murky water and trick of the light and shook himself out of it. Potter didn't respond as Draco wrapped his arms around him and dragged him towards the surface.

By the time he had tugged him ashore Draco was sure Potter was already dead, he had yet to even move. He dropped Potter onto the shore and sat down to get his own breath back. He couldn't believe the sharp turn of events that day. Had he somehow known Potter would try to kill himself, was that what the sense of foreboding was about? But why did he have to be the one who saved him? Why did Potter have to be saved at all?

Just what exactly was going on?

The fall onto hard stones seemed to push Potter into consciousness and he began coughing up water and choking on it. Draco just sat and watched him, suddenly hit by the full force of what he had just done. He hadn't just _tried_ to save Harry Potter's life, he _had_ saved it. Potter was alive; he'd saved his enemy. No, Potter wasn't his enemy anymore, he had realised that weeks ago. He didn't know what was going on, though he desperately wanted to. He just couldn't understand why Potter would try to take his own life, letting Voldemort win.

After Potter managed to empty his lungs he looked around dazedly and then caught sight of Draco. He seemed to stop breathing and then anger clouded his eyes. Rather than acting on it, he simply grabbed his wand, glasses and robes and started hurrying away. Draco clenched his jaw, he wasn't going to accept that. He reached out and grabbed Potter's arm, sharply turning him around.

"What the hell was that, Potter?

Potter didn't even bother to respond, he just pulled his arm free and turned to leave again. He took a few steps and froze. Draco stared at him for a few minutes, waiting for him to say something, and becoming increasingly frustrated when he did not.

"Answer me, Potter!" he snapped.

Potter turned around and Draco was disgusted to see a mask of indifference covering Potter's face.

"Just going for a swim, lovely day and all," Potter shrugged.

Draco stared at him incredulously, did Potter really expect him to believe that? Draco wanted to rip that mask from Potter's face and find out how he really felt about the situation.

"Do you think I'm that stupid? You were trying to kill yourself, weren't you? Not satisfied with the attention you have so far, I take it," he sneered, trying to snap Potter out of it, as insults had always worked before. "Never thought you'd sink so low."

Potter maintained his indifference, although his eyes darted around, clearly he was searching for another convincing lie. That he had to think so long proved he was himself shaken, perhaps struggling with the realisation he wasn't dead yet. Draco hoped he was feeling guilt. If the whole Wizarding world depended on Draco, he knew he would not break.

"Think what you want, taunt me as much as you want. You are that stupid if you think I care. Stay away from me."

After muttering a repairing charm on his glasses Potter shoved them onto his face and left before Draco could answer. Draco stared after him. Then what he had done hit him with full force. He had saved Harry Potter! Stumbling, he collapsed to the ground, knees suddenly too weak to support him. What would happen if his father found out?

Draco shook himself violently. No. It didn't matter was his father thought. His father had betrayed him, so had his mother. He wasn't sure yet, but there was the possibility he would never return to them. He had to stop allowing them to follow him around like a conscience, influencing his actions. He was no longer under their thumb, they could not even contact him.

But that wasn't true. They were there, under his skin, replying to everything he thought, commenting on everything he did. He had come so far and had fallen even further. How did Potter handle it? Draco knew he must feel the same.

Well that was just it; clearly Potter didn't handle it well at all.

x-x-x-x-x

A few days later Draco was having tea with Hagrid. This was the first time he'd really sat down with the half-giant, and he was surprised at how comfortable he was around him. But that comfort was haunted by anxiety. Draco was torn over what to do about Potter. He had to tell someone that not only was Potter suicidal, but he would already be dead if Draco hadn't intervened at the last minute. However, he had no idea who to tell.

Clearly he couldn't tell Dumbledore, he didn't want to be alone with him after the last time. He'd rather throw himself in the lake that go to Snape and the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio were not even an option, they wouldn't even believe him, he was sure. He considered telling Hagrid but he wasn't quite sure how to raise the subject, it would lead to questions about why he cared, and he still wasn't quite sure about that himself. In the past it would have been self-preservation and the need to shame Potter that would have led him to tell someone. He supposed self-preservation was still a part of it, but there was also the rest of the Wizarding world to take into account; if Harry Potter left them alone to fight Voldemort then they would lose.

It was hard to acknowledge, but deep down there was a part of Draco that cared about what happened to Potter. It was the same part that saw the likeness between them, their somewhat similar situations. Draco stared at his cup as he ran likely scenarios over in his head. Not all of them had very appealing outcomes. If Hagrid didn't believe him, and thought he was only trying to hurt Potter with lies, then he'd lose the support that was so very crucial in him surviving that year. He sighed, and decided it was best to say nothing.

All this time Hagrid had been watching Draco very closely. He could tell from the look on Draco's face that he was thinking about Harry. It was a strange combination of confusion, curiosity, and an old, tired-like, hate. He had to admit to himself that he was pleased to see the hate fading away, clearly it was more habit now than anything. He wished Harry still gave away his thoughts through his face, but that had stopped quite a while ago. He was sure Draco didn't even realise how much he gave away when he thought about Harry, but then he was sure no one else would even notice. Hagrid was so used to reading the body-language of animals that reading human body language was like a second nature to him.

"Somthin' on yer mind, Draco?" he asked cautiously.

Draco looked up, slightly alarmed, and still not quite used to hearing his first name used so casually. He looked down again, turning words over in his head, not one seeming right for the situation.

"Potter really doesn't like his fame, does he?" he asked softly, so ashamed of never seeing it, and half afraid Hagrid would say something harsh and force the subject to drop. Draco needed to talk things over before he could really understand them. All the same, he didn't want to say anything to upset Hagrid. After all, Hagrid was the only person he talked to anymore.

Hagrid carefully assessed the situation. Harry trusted Hagrid with his past, his feelings, and all the things he never said. But Hagrid trusted Draco now, and more than that, he saw a boy on the edge of a precipice and saw him reaching out for help. He couldn't deny Draco the truth, especially since he now knew it wouldn't be used against Harry, not anymore.

"Course not, tha' fame is built on his family's blood, Draco, he'd give anythin' for a normal life, with a normal lovin' family," he said carefully. When Draco said nothing, he pushed on cautiously, unable to help himself. "I can see yer wantin' the same thing there."

Draco didn't look at Hagrid but he felt a sharp shard of ice through his chest. Was that true? He certainly believed his life now would be easier without the tarnished Malfoy name attached to him. But a more loving family? He couldn't really understand the concept, he had believed that his family was loving, until they...well he didn't believe they cared too much about their traitor son now.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Draco said thoughtfully. "I can see his pain now, it's so similar to my own, in a distorted way...I think I want to help him," he said with sudden realisation.

"Tha' sounds great an' all, but I don' think he'd let yeh, he doesn' let anyone in anymore, sad teh say. Can' even read his face no more."

Draco just nodded, but the more he thought about it the more he believed he was perfect for it. Potter was experiencing darkness, who knew that better? He imagined Potter couldn't tell Granger and Weasley some things because those things were too dark, and they may not accept it or take him seriously. Darkness didn't bother Draco anymore, and no person was a perfect beacon of light, the way everyone thought Potter was. Maybe he could break through to Potter. It was worth trying at the least, although he had no idea how to get close enough, or how to even start a conversation with Potter.

He knew one thing though, he'd get nowhere without offering up a part of himself, Potter wouldn't trust him otherwise. The main problem now was finding Potter alone, and knowing what parts of himself to offer up in order to get Potter to trust him. He knew that Potter would trust him if he told him what happened the night his father returned home, even if he turned him over to Dumbledore afterwards, he'd know Draco was telling the truth. He should probably stop referring to him as Potter at some stage too, he always said it and thought it with such venom, even though he no longer hated the boy, if he ever really did to begin with.

Draco left Hagrid's hut with a lot on his mind, and aimlessly wandered the hallways until he found himself in front of the room of requirement. He stood staring the door, trying to remember when he'd walked up any stairs. Shrugging it off as stress, he went inside, wondering what the room would provide with his new found objective of breaking through Potter's defences.

When Draco walked into the room he froze in shock. At first he couldn't believe his eyes, then it started to make horrible sense. Potter was sitting on the floor with his back to Draco and there was a projected spell-shield in front of his wand, but it wasn't an ordinary shield spell, it was dark magic. Draco really wasn't that surprised once the initial shock wore off, of course Potter would want to know that. But when the shield started to disintegrate in front of his eyes it all stopped making sense. He quickly backed out of the room and hurried away, knowing Potter would probably kill him if he knew what he'd seen.

The spell was extremely ancient, of a type of magic that could be cast on wands themselves, altering their magic, or revealing it. The spell Potter had cast was called the _usaldus kapten_ spell, and was Estonian in origin. When cast, a shield would be projected from the wand, indicating the amount of trust the wand had in its master, and its corresponding tendency to protect its master, basically how reliable it was. If this spell was cast on a wand and it showed a result like Potter's, indicating no trust and a general tendency to fail and so allow the master to become injured or killed, then there was a partner spell that caused the wand to shoot a spell backwards, at the master, thus killing him.

But for a wand to lose all trust in the master it had chosen itself, it was almost unheard of. Draco couldn't even begin to comprehend what Potter must have done to cause it. Sadly it made everything else clearer. If Potter's wand did not trust him then it could fail to cast a spell at any time, especially a time crucial for Potter's survival. Fighting with a wand like that was walking into a volley of spells, almost certain death.

There were several ways for a wand to lose trust in its master, and a fair bit was known about them, despite the rarity of it all. Casting horrific spells was the most common, if the Death Eater wands hadn't already been dark in origin they'd have all been killed relatively easily in the first war. But Potter's wand was rumoured to have one of Fawkes' feathers in it, so if it was true then a truly dark spell could have caused it, but Draco couldn't see Potter casting something dark enough to do it. Although Voldemort's wand also had one of Fawkes' feathers, so maybe that didn't explain anything. Some other options were malicious spells cast on the wand itself, designed for that purpose, or the wand bearer doing something that was against their morals in a most extreme way.

Still nothing seemed like something Potter could have done. Draco had only read about this spell and all its related information, and his sources were limited, simply from the rarity of a wand turning against its chosen master. He desperately wanted to know more about it, as he had when he'd first read about it. More so, he knew it would be even harder to get close to Potter, who couldn't even trust his own wand now.

x-x-x-x-x

The following day Draco skipped his classes and went flying to clear his mind. He had been so focused on Potter's problems the day before, he had completely forgotten his own, and one nightmare was enough for them to all come pouring back the second he woke up. The fact he was showing concern for Potter only made it all more of a mess. Even if he did return to his family, which he was not inclined to do, then he'd be harbouring a concern for Potter, and an understanding that didn't allow for hatred. If he joined Voldemort, could he even fight against Potter?

It hardly mattered, Draco had already had a chance to allow Potter to die, or even help him along, but he'd saved him instead. Voldemort would read that in his mind in a second. Draco did not imagine him allowing to let Draco live long after that discovery. It was a hard truth to accept; he couldn't return to his family, or Voldemort.

But where did that leave him? With Dumbledore? With Potter? Neither cared about him, and they'd never trust him without him being completely honest with them. Was neutrality an option? Was he really that cowardly? Facing the distrust of the light would be hard, almost as hard as facing the cold truth about his family. He couldn't discuss this with anyone, he didn't trust anyone enough, and the reverse. Hagrid was the only one he'd consider talking to, and he'd already hinted his inclination the previous day when discussing Potter.

It would have to be Hagrid, he was respected and trusted by both Dumbledore and Potter. Hagrid would be his go between, if he could first trust Draco's decision.

Draco remained flying for a few more hours, feeling no desire to return. In fact he felt as if he never wanted to stop flying and had a mad urge to pick a direction and fly as fast and as far as he could. Almost without thinking, he did just that. Hunched close to his broom, he closed his eyes as he sped over the treetops of the forest, he felt more live than he had all year.

x-x-x-x-x

_Time froze as he leapt from his broom. Twisting himself around, he cast a banishment spell at his broom and watched it disappear before turning his attention to the fall. Closing his eyes, he drank in the sensations. The cold air seemed to almost hold him up, even as he fell. He could hear no sound, almost as if he had gone deaf, and accompanied by a lack of thoughts, he experienced true silence as he never had before._

_He had flown so high and had so far to fall that he couldn't help but wonder how far he had to go before death. In that instant, that one stray thought, it all came back to him. The guilt hit him the hardest, not about what he was doing, but about what he had done. He had taken a life, and nothing could erase that from the world. _

_Death seemed like the only viable punishment for him, he had taken a life, so his life must be taken in return. For weeks he had wanted to fight the guilt, fight the sadness, the pain. However it was too strong, and there was no one to talk to about it. It was so wrong, that a life was taken but it was never acknowledged. Those that knew had covered it up and those that suspected had remained silent._

_Sometimes he felt their eyes on him, judging him. Was taking his life a cowardly thing to do? There was so much expected of him, and he'd already started down a path he had never wanted for himself. Without an escape in life, surely the only escape was in death. And he deserved escape, didn't he? After all he had endured, after all he had done, and would have done; he deserved a little freedom. However, this only made him more confused. _

_He believed with all his being that he deserved the freedom of death for all that he had suffered, and yet he also believed he deserved to die as punishment. Where did that leave him? A punishment shouldn't bring a reward._

_There was no time to finish that thought. Opening his eyes he saw green speeding up at him and he knew it was the end. Closing his eyes he waited a few seconds and then he felt the impact._

x-x-x-x-x

Albus sat in his office, staring at Fawkes sadly. The bird no longer allowed him to touch it. It was almost like Fawkes could sense what Albus was doing, now that he was getting desperate. Sometimes he wondered if Fawkes wanted to die. So many times had he watched the bird burn and live again, as he himself had lived on when life should have left him.

It was moments like these when he wondered if maybe he should just stop and let death take him. Sighing to himself, he turned away from Fawkes and walked into an adjoining room. Laid out on a table was a miniature model of Hogwarts, complete will realistic models of students going about their lives. Albus walked around the table until he was looking over a miniature of the forest.

With a tired look in his eyes, he watched the boy flying over the Forbidden forest, and was reminded once again that things were no longer going according to his plans. Like a puppet master who lost control of the strings he felt helplessness wash over him. Everything would have been so different that year if he had just listened to Severus and had Draco Malfoy arrested. But like a fool he had wanted to know the exact details, unable to draw himself away from the possibility of ensnaring the whole family, rather than just the son.

Closing his eyes Albus sighed again, unable to watch the ruination of his plans. In the other room he head Fawkes go up in flames and couldn't help but shiver, knowing that it would not be long before he himself was tested once again.

* * *

><p>Thoughts?<p>

Thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter =] (I liked Sylver-Tyger's comment the most =] you're asking all the right questions! and I like mature powerful! Harry as well =]) and thanks to all the people who read but didn't comment too, at least you're reading it :P

I'm still working on the next part, though I won't post it until I'm at least halfway through the part after (which may take a while, uni is getting intense now), so any feedback you give that has suggestions or questions will be taken into account, such as characterisation or something that doesn't make much sense (althought most of it isn't supposed to make sense yet lol if you've figured something out I'd love to know how =]) because I'm really careful when I write this, but I may have made an obvious mistake that needs correcting lol especially since I don't have a beta.

oh oh, and let me know if you spot me using 'Harry' instead of 'Potter' so I can fix it! I keep doing it and it's driving me nuts lol cos my other story uses 'Harry' instead and I get so confused when I go between them!


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